


Ours to Protect

by President Romana (asoldandtrueasthesky)



Series: Gallifrey: Cycles [1]
Category: Gallifrey (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Other, Temporary Character Death, it's happy i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 14:50:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7056943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asoldandtrueasthesky/pseuds/President%20Romana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Enemy Lines. Romana decides Narvin needs a break. It goes about as well as you'd expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ours to Protect

Davidia was just as she remembered it. The surrounding forests were impressively large but safe, no real danger lurking there but Leela had still appreciated them. Compared to the dreary air of the capitol, filled with deception and double meanings, the outside must have seemed wild and untamed.

The inside was more to Brax’s taste and had what anyone would expect of a luxury resort planet- no expense spared, its visitors accustomed to luxury, and special care taken to add some familiarity for the more important guests. Though Time Lord culture was mostly unknown to the rest of the Universe- no local delicacies to be shared, the language unwieldly and requiring both telepathy and time sensitivity, their environments sterile and minimalistic- so they didn’t seem to have made much of an attempt beyond a few plastic chairs and a seal of Rassilon that served as a carpet, the latter of which would probably have constituted blasphemy to any other Time Lord. Or perhaps she simply didn’t qualify as an extremely important guest anymore, there were lots of _former_ Presidents of Gallifrey still dotted about.

And yet, her companion was not impressed.       

“Oh, do show some gratitude, Narvin. You’d think I was dragging you to the Outlands.”

“You might as well be dragging me. I am here purely because I am subject to the chains of command.”

“The Web of Time _can_ survive without you, you know.”

“Can it? Half the point of having a Deputy Coordinator is so the Agency is never without someone in charge.”

“If Gallifrey could survive when I left for a day as _President_ I’m sure the Agency can make do.”  

“Wynter didn’t.”

Romana whipped around, suddenly defensive. “That was not my fault.”

“I didn’t say it was, Mada- Romana.” Narvin said mildly, genuinely surprised. “I merely don’t understand why you refuse to take Leela when she is the more logical choice.”

Romana relaxed somewhat and continued walking. “I took Leela last time.”

“If we’re taking turns Braxiatel would have taken my place most eagerly. He likely has multiple engagement speeches just waiting for the right environment.”

“Braxiatel will have to wait, won’t he?”

They lapsed into silence for half a span until Narvin suddenly looked up. “Is this some elaborate training exercise supposed to make us better co-coordinators? I can assure you, there’s no need.”

“No, Narvin, please stop seeing conspiracies around every corner. Is it so unbelievable that I want you to have a break?” Romana paused. “And we’re not co-Coordinators, you’re my-“

“Deputy, I know.” He sighed. “But I still don’t see the need-“  

“Shut up and enjoy the holiday.”

“Yes, Madam President.” Narvin said wearily. “Er, Coordinator.”

Romana smiled. “This is going to take some getting used to, isn’t it?”

 

Narvin had insisted on checking the security arrangements, not trusting Davidia’s internal security though, to be fair, they hadn’t given him much reason to.

“Paranoid, Narvin?”

“Naturally. I’ve no idea why you chose the same establishment after your previous experience.”

“We had fun.”

“And saw rather more corpses than one usually expects on a romantic retreat.”

“Oh, be fair, that TARDIS would have materialised wherever we went.” Romana went still. “Did you say _romantic_?”

“Presidents don’t usually take their bodyguards on holiday in an attempt to please them.”

“So you’d call this a romantic retreat?”

Narvin’s face turned an interesting shade of red. “ _That_ \- that was not what I intended to imply!”

“Wasn’t it?” Romana raised an eyebrow. He was too easy to tease.  

Narvin coughed and straightened his robes. “What’s on the itinerary then?”

“Tomorrow we’ll be on a historical tour, I’ve personal experience with most of the eras so I’m sure they’ll be some disputes over the facts but it should be informative. For today I thought you could decide.”

Narvin sat down on the bed. “Is catching up on paperwork an option?”

“Nope!” Romana tossed the brochure at him in response and stifled a laugh when it hit him in the chest. “Oh, sorry but you were meant to catch it. Just pick something.”

Resigned to his fate, Narvin picked it up off the floor and glanced over the first page. “Hmm, the sensory tanks sound interesting.”

“ _Anything_ but them.” she sighed. “The last thing I want is to see things from your perspective.”

Narvin frowned in confusion but continued to flick through. “What’s jousting? It doesn’t translate well.”

“Something Brax would approve of.”

“Ah.” He scanned a couple more pages. “Augmented reality simulations? They have an option for military training.”   

“That sounds rather like an attempt to turn this into a work related outing.”

“You said it was my choice.”

Romana sighed. “As you wish.”  

 

The objective of the simulation was relatively simple- strategically repel an invading force while keeping the collateral damage to a minimum.

Romana had seen more wars than she could care to count- as a renegade, a bystander, a rebel and as a President, when the responsibility had rested entirely with her. By comparison the simulation was underwhelming. The air felt real, yes and the landscapes were impressively detailed but the fighting wasn’t and the enemies entirely one dimensional and barely threatening. There were no stakes, nothing to lose.

She turned to find Narvin, to see if he was similarly unimpressed but then the landscape shifted suddenly.

She froze. As President, she’d spent a lot of time in the Matrix and was used to such changes but one thing she’d never gotten used to was the sight of a dalek heading towards her.

The dalek started firing wildly, the familiar bolts of energy as real as any memory. Romana ran.

“Romana?”

“Coordinator! Over here!”

Narvin appeared over the small hill, smugness radiating from him. “You called me-“

“This is not the time to debate job titles!” Romana threw herself to the ground just in time to avoid the blast of the dalek’s weapon, her breath catching as her elbow hit something hard.

Meanwhile, Narvin stared, dumbfounded. “I thought this was just meant to have generic alien enemies.“  

“Never mind that! Run!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

“It’s not real!” he shouted as he struggled to keep up with her. “If we just run from everything we’ll fail the simulation. What if there’s a real dalek invasion?”

“Doesn’t mean I want to be exterminated!”

They soon slowed down to catch their breath, Narvin not taking his eyes off the slowly approaching dalek. Thankfully, Davros hadn’t had high speed chases in mind when designing them.

“Narvin.” Romana said slowly, an undercurrent of worry behind her words. “Are we meant to feel pain in this?”

“I wouldn’t have thought so.”

She turned her arm towards him to show the bloody scrape on her elbow. “It feels real.”

“You mean, you think the injury’s present in the real world?”

“Possibly. And if we can be injured here…”

Simultaneously, they looked up at the dalek. Now it didn’t seem nearly slow enough.

Romana broke into a run. “We need to stop it!”

“I’m trying!” he shot back, eyes shut tightly in concentration. “I can’t turn it off! It’s just programmed to stop once the simulation’s over!”

“Try harder!”

“Romana!”

She stopped. In the panic with the dalek she’d forgotten about their designated generic alien enemies, two of which were now right in front of them. She hissed a Galifreyan swear under her breath, the rough translation of which was `space-time anomaly`. So much for strategy.

She threw herself to the side and Narvin ducked just as both their enemies fired. The weaponised energies collided in mid-air, almost instantaneously causing an explosion more volatile than any of Agent Ace’s concoctions.

Romana barely registered Narvin’s shriek as the force of the explosion threw her away. She hit the floor on her stomach, all the air rushing out of her. Her head hit the ground, rebounding, and all her senses- her vision, her sense of time- went hazy for several moments, near unconsciousness.

Romana groaned and slowly pulled herself into a sitting position, looking around as best she could with her blurred vision. The dalek had burnt up and the other aliens had gotten caught up in the explosion. Narvin was crumpled in a heap on the floor, bloodied but breathing and everything else faded from importance.

“Narvin!”

Narvin choked, flanks heaving as he tried and failed to speak, his hands clawing at the grass and getting only nails full of dirt, no relief. He was left with only one avenue to express his pain- a primal, wordless scream that blasted through her mind but she couldn’t bring herself to put up her telepathic shields. If this was to be Narvin’s last communication she had to hear it.

His limbs spasmed and for a moment Romana was breathless with hope, his hands lit by a faint glow that soon faded. Whatever remnants of regeneration energy his torturers had left him had been barely enough to heal a papercut let alone hold back death.

He stilled and Romana felt terribly sure he was never going to move again.

She placed her hands on his hearts, barely thinking about what she was doing and in a split second they were both surrounded in gold.

She could feel her own hearts slowing, her head threatening to drop forward with exhaustion as life flooded out of her fingertips- _her_ lives, _her_ futures.

She stood, dizzy with loss and still Narvin didn’t breathe or twitch. Impossible.

“No. Not again.” Even through her light headedness she knew it wasn’t right, wasn’t possible. If this place was anything like the Matrix she had to have some control over it. “I reject this reality!”  

The artificial world was consumed in a blaze of light.

Her body shuddered as she jolted into consciousness and she sat up, gingerly examining her arm. There was no scar, no scrape, no blood.  She turned as Narvin woke on the terminal next to her with a gasp, fear pulsing from him, but very much alive.

 

 

Romana looked up from her spot on the bed as Narvin entered. “Finished your investigation?”

He nodded, his movements stiff with weariness as he moved to stand in front of her, as if giving a report in her office.  

“Why was the dalek there? Was it programmed in?”

“No, I think it ended up drawing off our minds. It wasn’t designed for Time Lords, with our many senses, our talent for spotting what isn’t real, errors in the fabric of reality. It felt pressured to make it more and more real, until it almost was.”

Romana thought about it for a moment. “That dalek wasn’t from my mind. It would have been the black dalek if it were. It was from yours.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps.”

“Are you hiding something from me, Narvin?” Romana frowned. “I can’t think of any good reason for a dalek to be your greatest fear.”

Narvin drew away from her, moving to the wall. “It isn’t. It wasn’t drawing off our deepest fears, it wasn’t a mind probe. I imagine all it got was surface level stuff, the things we were worrying about at that time or recently.” He stopped. “If the daleks were my fear then my death was yours. Is this because of my lack of regenerations?”

Romana leaned against the headboard of the bed, not missing his quick change of subject. For someone who so often proclaimed to hate politics he did have a politician’s talent for avoiding a straight answer. “Not everything is about your lack of regenerations.”

“When I was- thought I was dying, I heard you say something. What did you mean, not again? I haven’t died before. Well, not since you’ve known me, anyway.”

Romana near collapsed on to the bed with a sigh. “Haven’t you?”

Narvin’s face creased in confusion which only deepened as Romana’s eyes shut. “You can’t go to sleep here, Romana. What happened constitutes a security breach, we should return to Gallifrey.”

She didn’t move. “Not yet, Narvin. We can return tomorrow though I agree, Davidia will not have my custom again.” 

He stepped forward, urgency creeping into his tone. “What’s wrong?”

Romana’s eyes flickered open. “Sorry. I just feel tired.”

“It wasn’t real. Besides, I was the one who died.”

She hesitated. “I revived you. Or at least, I tried.”

“Using your regeneration energy?”

“Yes, I expect that’s why I’m exhausted, it felt so real it tricked my body into reacting as if that were the case. I hope.”

“You shouldn’t have tried.”

“To save you, you mean?” She shook her head. “I know you wouldn’t have done the same, even if you could have, but I had to try.”

Narvin stared at her for several moments but didn’t correct her. “Just- just promise that you’ll never endanger Gallifrey in my name. I’d rather die.”

Her eyes narrowed, still feeling like he was hiding something. “Of course. I’d never endanger Gallifrey for anyone. What a strange thing to say, Narvin.”

He looked away. “Of course.”

Silence fell for several microspans until Narvin spoke, shifting awkwardly, “I suppose I should get back to my room, if we’re staying.”

“Lay down with me.”

Narvin stiffened. “Madam President?”

Romana didn’t bother correcting him. “I’m not ordering you to do anything, Narvin, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just...With Leela, sometimes we sleep in close physical proximity to each other. It feels pleasant. It makes the dreams bearable. But I understand if that’s something you’re not comfortable with.”

He laid down on the bed next to her, his movements not exactly hesitant, more uncertain. “You’ve been having dreams too?”

“Leela and I believe they are more than dreams. Echoes. Of a time that might be or has already been. What are yours?”

“I don’t remember much of them. Just… fear. And a burning pain in my neck, my throat feeling like it’s been ripped open.”  

Romana shivered. “Yes, they could be echoes from the same reality. Hopefully one that never comes to pass.”

He hesitated. “You believe that if we sleep close, they won’t come?”  

She smiled. “It worked with Leela.”

“I doubt I have the same calming effect.”

“Would you use the word calm to describe me?” Romana asked. “I don’t think it’s do with any inherent quality. It’s to do with being close.”

 

When she slept her dreams were filled with Narvin but not his deaths. It was not like with Leela- there was no unmistakably human warmth, no comforting weight of a hand that kept the nightmares away. They were Time Lords and any telepath who slept near another was bound to end up in a shared dream. Their worries counteracted one another, their dreamscape gradually becoming more balanced.

It was a strange experience, even for a dream. There were rooms she didn’t recognise, faces she’d never seen and events that made no sense to her. They each seemed to pull its narrative thread towards familiarity every microspan, each change causing its genre to lurch- one moment they were arguing in the rooms of the High Council except they were dressed in Earth clothes and all the Cardinals were Tharils and the next they were fighting Monan spies with nitro nine and spiders.

Then Narvin’s presence became stronger- she suspected he had unwittingly made physical contact and for a moment their minds touched.

She could sense secrets, carefully shielded from view even in sleep; memories of the four of them, coloured by protectiveness and another emotion she couldn’t quite place which made her wonder what memories he was getting from her in return, but most of all there was a burning concern for Gallifrey, an overriding need to protect it, strengthen it. The same need she had, the same goal that had always made them clash since they had always had opposing views on what exactly threatened Gallifrey and how it should be strengthened.

But it was the same goal; there was none of Braxiatel’s duplicity, never knowing what eventuality he was working towards; none of Leela’s disdain for their planet and its customs and injustices, her fierce loyalty to her friends always at odds with her sense of alienation.

She had a feeling running the CIA together was going to be an easier task than first assumed.

 

Romana stirred. She could feel the itchy fabric of someone else’s robes against her neck and a glance in that direction confirmed it- Narvin had curled up next to her in his sleep, head resting against her shoulder, blissfully unaware of how improper he was being with his Coordinator.

She smiled for a moment. Romana knew he was more touch averse than even most Time Lords, similar to how she had been in her previous incarnation, she’d never known him to willingly stay so close to someone before. She carefully untangled her limbs from his and sat up, the movement jarring him half-awake.

“Romana?”

“Morning, Coordinator.”

“Deputy.” He corrected automatically and then blinked, suddenly alert. After a second of staring at Romana, looking like a startled animal caught in the headlights, he quickly regained his composure, sitting up and clearing his throat as if waking up next to his superior was a completely normal occurrence. “That historical thing now then?

Romana shook her head. “Gallifrey’s where we both want to be, isn’t it? It’s ours to protect.”


End file.
